


New Mooney

by aspiringwriterofamazingstories



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel, Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hotels, Infatuation, Murder, Seduction, Sexuality, Sexy, Villains, club, match made in hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringwriterofamazingstories/pseuds/aspiringwriterofamazingstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Patrick March builds the Hotel Cortez in Gotham near Mooney's with hopes of attracting the city's miscreants to his establishment where he will make them his victims. Soon after opening, Fish pays him a visit. While it seems Fish simply wants to rule him out as possible competition, James takes an immediate liking to her, sensing her powerful and dangerous aura and quickly becomes infatuated. What will happen when he decides to attempt to make the elegant mob queen his own?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To my Tumblr fans:  
> Thank you for your patience! I had meant to have my completed first chapter up sooner, but I had a very eventful weekend. I hope you like the finished product enough to stick around for more!
> 
> To my possible new fans:  
> As I have mentioned to my Tumblr fans, I have not yet decided which AHS: Hotel and Gotham characters to include in this story, as I am still working out the details in my head. I am also considering including at least one original character that I believe can fit into both universes.
> 
> This will probably be a short fanfiction, but if there is a demand and if I feel inspired, there could potentially be one or more sequels!

It was a complete no-brainer to build in Gotham. The city was notoriously known for having the vilest miscreants and law enforcement with questionable morals. He’d have to be a complete fool to build anywhere else.

In truth, James Patrick March was a miscreant himself. A true scoundrel. One would almost certainly never guess it by looking at him alone, however. He was quite a fortunate looking man. Fairly young in his early thirties. He wore his dark hair neatly combed back and was clean shaven with the exception of his elegantly thin mustache above his upper lip. His brown eyes held a welcoming warmth to them, and his charismatic smirk could charm nearly any man or woman. 

If one were to judge him based on appearances and the way he presented himself in public alone, they would merely view him as ambitious “new money” with a handsome face. This was because this was the only side of him he permitted the public to see. Behind closed doors, James was a monster. To some, monsters are obviously hideous. They wear ugly faces and speak with decrepit tones and voices. There are only two types of people that can identify a monster with attractive features and a voice as smooth and as warm and bold as bourbon: The wisest of good men and women, and monsters themselves. And it seems common knowledge that only a monster could kill a monster.

It came as no surprise to James that shortly after the grand opening of the Hotel Cortez, he had gotten a special visitor. The owner of a nearby club called Mooney’s. Now, he had not known much about the place other than it seemed to be well liked and was known to attract a questionable crowd. Truth be told, it was one of the reasons he had decided to build in that particular part of the city. James, at times, could have a competitive spirit, but he was not looking for a friendly competition between owners of establishments. It was true his hotel included a bar and an area where one might go to be entertained, but his establishment was not a club. It was a hotel. He was anticipating patrons of the club would stumble upon his place after one too many drinks with hopes to stay the night or perhaps a few men from the club would look to bed an attractive woman with questionable morals. These were the types of people he liked to choose as his victims. They were the ones few would miss, so when they disappeared, the city would barely bat a lash, and he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of victims, for the city had a way of turning even the best of people into lowly ruffians. 

He had no intention of making the owner of the club one of his victims. That would have been a complete waste, especially since there was even the possibility of what some would describe as a friendship between the two of them. A partnership of sorts. When he was informed by the help that the owner of Mooney’s was waiting downstairs in the lounge area, he was fully prepared to be the professional he knew how to be and appear as a humble newcomer. 

As the doors to the elevator separated in front of him to reveal the lavish lobby of the hotel, he straightened his collar and tie. It was always good to keep up appearances when meeting a fellow businessman. He then strode the the bar where he was told the owner by the name of Fish would be waiting for him. Now, he did see quite a few patrons with youthful and attractive faces enjoying themselves and the drinks the hotel had to offer, but none of the men gave off a vibe of being the owner of their own fine establishment. Perhaps the help had been mistaken, or maybe the owner had gotten bored of waiting and left to go tend to their own business just right up the street. In any case, he figured he might as well get himself a drink now that he was there. He raised a hand signaling his usual before taking a seat at an empty barstool near a rather intriguing looking woman.

Before he had sat down, the woman had been facing the crowd. Studying them as if taking notes in her mind. Her elbow was propped on the counter behind her as she fondled her elegantly pointed dark fingernails with the tip of her thumb. Her other hand held her glass which she swiveled slightly ever so often to swirl the alcohol in it. She had beautiful features. An angular face with the amber eyes of a predatory wild cat, smooth umber skin that the lights of the bar only seemed to enhance, short black hair with edgy ends dyed crimson. She wore a little red dress that generously complimented her slim curves. The top and bottom came together at the center of her waist and was held together by a gold piece allowing anyone who gazed at her a glimpse of more of that lovely smooth skin of hers. He could tell she had fine taste based on appearances alone, but he could also sense something else. An aura of power.

James had always had an eye and appreciation for beauty, and this fascinating woman was no exception. Very rarely, however, did he ever stumble upon a woman who both pleased his eyes while also raising his curiosity. Women such as her were the lucky ones. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen, and they could only temporarily satiate his appetite for blood and pleasure. Beautiful women with the power to infatuate him, however, were rare. They were worthy of life and deserved to be passed over as possible victims, but James was a man who didn’t like letting go of beautiful things he enjoyed marveling at. They were his weakness. Quite often, once James decided he must have something or someone, he obsessed over keeping them.

James decided to wait until the lovely creature finished her drink before speaking to her. He watched as she swiveled smoothly on the barstool and set her drink on the counter, but before she could signal for another, James stood and approached her. “Why, hello, my dear,” he said with the bold confidence that had become one of his signatures throughout the years, “I couldn’t help but notice your finished drink. Perhaps I might treat you to a second.”   
James was many things, but in some ways, he was still an old fashioned gentleman. He would not have expected anything from her if he hadn’t bought her a drink first.

The woman turned her head towards him ever so slightly, allowing those dangerously captivating eyes to travel the rest of the way to meet his gaze. “And what would I owe in return for such kindness?” she asked. She spoke in a low silky tone. Her voice was inviting like a cat’s purr, yet there was something foreboding about it. It promised companionship just the same as it promised to trap him. 

“Absolutely nothing, if you wish, aside from your brief company.”  
At this, she turned the rest of the way to face him, one hand resting upon her crossed legs, the other resting on the counter next to her empty glass. The faint sound of her nails tapping could be heard below the sounds of tasteful music and the social chatter and laughter of the crowd. She was now examining him the way a predator might examine a rodent to decide whether to make it her next meal or her plaything. That look alone was enough to thrill him. 

After another moment or two of her careful examination of his face and his overall appearance, her lips curled as she seemed to decide he was worthy of buying her a drink. She raised her hand to signal the bartender for another, and a delighted James grinned as it was placed in front of her. He watched as her elegant fingers wrapped themselves around the delicate glass before she brought the edge to her lips.

“Splendid,” he said, “Please allow me the privilege of introducing myself. James Patrick March. Owner of this fine establishment.”  
“I know who you are,” she spoke again in that alluringly low yet dangerously playful tone. “I saw your face and read about you in the paper.”  
“Ah, I see,” he said in response, “You enjoy staying up to date with current events.”  
She turned again to meet his gaze once more, thrilling him again with that look of friendly fire. “Of course,” she said, “It’s always a smart idea for a woman to know what’s going on in her city and who is who, especially new neighbors.” Her lips curled once again as she took another sip of her drink. A knowing look came over her light brown eyes as it all came together for him.

He was surprised, certainly, but not at all displeased. In fact, he was quite delighted that this positively exquisite woman was the owner of Mooney’s. It made her close to home and it established an automatic connection between the two of them. “So, you’re the famous Fish Mooney,” he said smoothly.  
“So I am,” she replied just as smoothly herself before taking another drink.  
“Well, if I may say so, it is a privilege and an honor to finally meet you. You are welcome to drinks anytime your heart desires.”  
“How thoughtful,” she said pleasantly before finishing off the drink.  
His mind was ablaze now with possibilities, but she seemed ready to go. She placed her drink down and stood. “I’m afraid I must be off,” she said, “I do have my own business to attend to after all.”  
He continued to be amazed by how her demeanor could effortlessly flirt with the line between friendly and hazardous. “Of course,” he said slightly lifting his own glass to her as if making a toast, “Don’t be a stranger, my dear. Should you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”  
He gave her another charming smile and she returned the favor with a smirk before turning and walking casually towards the main entrance.

He gazed after her as she made her way to the exit. Her walk was like that of a panther. Beautiful to watch, but dangerous if you were what she was stalking towards. He knew there was a possibility that she could mean pure trouble for him. That perhaps he should believe it would be better if he refrained from pursuing anything beyond a professional relationship with her. At his best, he was a rational man. A smart man. A killer, sure, but still quite clever, but once he sensed that beyond her beauty was a monster just like him, his rationality disappeared. He would have her. He would shower her with kindness and gifts. All in hopes she would soon return his infatuation. All in hopes that in the near future, he would no longer enjoy his kills alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gives Fish a lovely little gift with hopes to get her attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this chapter a week or two ago, but didn't like the way it was coming out, so a few days ago, I started from scratch. Hopefully you like it as much as the first chapter.

James had wasted no time in trying to woo the elegant owner of Mooney’s. If there was any knowledge he gained from being married to his now ex wife, Elizabeth, it was that he could get much more out of a victim with money or jewels than a mere commoner off the streets who had nothing. Such wisdom proved itself valuable for this particular situation. Soon after meeting Fish, he targeted a particular couple in the bar. The man was unremarkable aside from his tailored suit and beautiful watch. In fact, he was quite a bit older and more bland than the radiant woman who accompanied him, which made her one of two things. Either she was a high class whore or a she was a gold digger, and he soon found his eyes lingering on the priceless diamond bracelet she wore around her wrist. He had no doubt it was a gift from the man she was so obviously only feigning interest in. His lip curled into that same dangerous smirk as he thought how lovely it would look around the wrist of the new object of his desires.

James soon found himself in a sea of screams of torture and pain and nearly drenched in their blood. As he gazed upon their bodies now lying lifelessly like crimson stained rag dolls on the bed of the suite. The knowledge that they would never be found and that no one would suspect that their bodies would lay hidden within the wall and right underneath everyone’s nose brought him the pleasure and the high no drug could ever give him. The only thing that could possibly come close was the touch of a beautiful woman who enjoyed engaging in the monstrous activity with him. A woman who didn’t mind getting a little dirty with blood for the sake of the thrill awarded by a good kill. He grinned at the idea, but it wasn’t the grin of a man who had just murdered a couple, but rather like a man full of hope after a trip to the jeweler’s. He held up the bracelet to admire it as the suite’s light illuminated the diamonds.

“Shall I come by later after you’ve disposed of the bodies, Mr. March?”  
He turned his attention away from the jewelry and turned his head towards the doorway to see that his most loyal and trusted maid had entered the room. She wore a smile on her face with eyes as desperate to please as a lost puppy. Looks wise, there was nothing special about her, and the way she sought to please him so much so that she put her needs second to his was exhausting at times, but she wasn’t completely invaluable to him. Her talent in getting the cruelest and most unforgiving bloodstains out of bed sheets and clothing was quite remarkable. Had he been a superstitious man, he would suspect witchcraft. It was for this reason he tolerated and sometimes even enjoyed her company. Perhaps it was cruel of him to take advantage of her skills when she was so obviously infatuated with him, but he needed her around. Because of this, he treated her kindly and didn’t correct the belief she so obviously had that there was hope he’d someday turn his affections to her.

“Ms. Evers!” he said pleasantly, “You’re just who I wanted to see.”  
He watched as her eyes seemed to light up a bit as she smoothed her apron. She was clearly pleased to hear such flattering words. Unfortunately, he was just about to rain on that short lived parade.

He walked towards her presenting the diamonds to her in the palm of his hand. It had not escaped being spattered by the blood of the lovely whore and the old scab she was with, but its value shone through with the help of the room’s lighting. Ms. Evers was clearly impressed, for her eyes grew as wide as full moons. “Why, Mr. March!” she said in a gasp placing her hand over her heart, “It’s quite beautiful!”  
His lips curled into another smirk. “Yes,” he purred in agreement, “It’s quite the perfect gift, is it not?”   
He allowed her to take it into her own hands and fondle the diamonds carefully with her fingertips, unfazed by the blood. Her face illustrated the wonder and flattery flowing through her mind. He, however, stopped her just as it seemed she was about to wrap it around her own wrist. “While I’m disposing of the bodies, I’m going to need you to clean up the bracelet and arrange to have it boxed and wrapped nicely.”  
Ms. Evers looked as if she had been slapped awake from a pleasant dream and reintroduced to the harsh reality of her position. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said.  
“I plan to have it delivered to Fish,” he replied, “It’s quite fitting for her, don’t you agree?”  
Ms. Evers now looked as if she had just been stabbed in the heart, though she tried to keep herself composed. “The owner of Mooney’s?” she asked, “Surely, you don’t plan on courting such a woman, do you? You wouldn’t rather settle for someone a little more simple? Less high maintenance? Why, I was sure after Elizabeth--”  
“Now, now, Ms. Evers,” James cut in with a patient tone, “I don’t believe I asked for your opinion on the matter.”

Poor Ms. Evers had always been jealous of Elizabeth, and she did seem to take her running off with that actor quite swimmingly, but now he could see all the hope she had of winning over his affection crashing down on her once again. “Very well, Mr. March,” she said, “I will make the proper arrangements and be back in time to clean up the mess.”

Despite her objections, Ms. Evers did as was requested of her and cleaned the jewelry before having it boxed and wrapped nicely in gold wrapping and topped with a crimson bow. Now all James had to do was wait for Fish to stop by again to thank him for the thoughtful gift, and wait he did. Unfortunately, James was not a patient man. He allowed himself three days before taking it upon himself to pay her a visit.

When he entered, he found himself a seat at the bar and took a few moments to take in the atmosphere. He wasn’t at all disappointed with what he saw. The club was a stylish establishment full of beautiful people and a few ruffians mixed in with the bunch here and there. On the stage was a lovely singer with a calming and sweet angelic voice, and below her was a handful of male fans sitting and looking up at her with lustful eyes. Had this been any other place owned by anyone else, James would have been skimming through the crowd for a new victim, but decided against it out of respect for Fish. Anyone who entered the doors of the Cortez was fair game, but he would do nothing to lure anyone from her club to his hotel.

 

“May I get you something?” asked the voice of a woman from behind the bar. He turned to see a rather charming looking girl with pale skin, bleached long hair, and small elegant heavy lidded eyes. She was rather thin and wore a black sleeveless form fitting dress. “You’re free to enjoy the view,” she continued, “Just know there is a two drink minimum.”

As she spoke, her eyes scanned him from top to bottom. It wasn’t, however, a stare of fascination as he was used to. Recognition, perhaps, his face had been in the paper upon the opening of the Cortez. She was assessing him, though, as if figuring out if he was worthy enough to grace the bar with his presence. “Oh, that’s well and good,” he said, “Make my first drink a good scotch.”  
“Very well,” she said, but before she moved to get his order, he added in a request. “I certainly would hate to trouble you further, but I’d also like to see Ms. Mooney if she is available. Could you find her and tell her Mr. March stopped by to pay her a visit?”

The girl looked him over again before turning to find the drink he ordered. Once she found it, she picked up a small glass and set it in front of him before pouring the golden liquid. “I’ll see if she’s busy,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She then left him alone with his drink to continue watching the show as he waited.

After what seemed like a few minutes, the girl came back wearing a smug expression on her face. “I regret to inform you that she is busy taking care of a little problem,” she said, “But she did tell me to let you know that she appreciated the gift.”  
She smiled as she picked up a rag to wipe off the counter. “I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.”  
“Nonsense,” James said, returning a similar expression, “I don’t believe there is a limit to the amount one can spend or do for a woman like Ms. Mooney.” He then paused to finish off his drink before continuing. “In any case,” he said setting the empty glass down, “I don’t mind waiting. How about another scotch?”

The girl’s expression changed to one of annoyance as she poured another drink. He recognized that look. Elizabeth often had given him that same expression when he tried getting close to her. Even in their most intimate moments, she acted as if it were a chore to even be in the same room as him. As he thought of it, he realized there was something similar to Elizabeth and Fish he sensed in this girl. There was a monster within her that had yet to be completely awakened. She may have been rough around the edges--anyone who worked for Fish would have to be--but she had yet to delve completely into the darkness. She was but a mere underling. “It could take a while,” she said simply.   
“I see,” he said, “No matter.” He then raised his glass to her as if making a toast, “So, what do I call you?”  
She took a few moments to study him once again as if considering carefully how she answered.  
“Butterfly,” she said finally.

He smirked before taking a drink. Such a name seemed fitting. She had potential, and clearly Fish knew this as well, otherwise she wouldn’t be working for her. He understood, however, that she was not his to teach. She was already under Fish’s wing, and he chose to respect that.

The night progressed and Butterfly continued to tolerate his presence. He watched as the last performer wrapped up their show and as customers began excusing themselves from the club. Finally, Fish entered the scene from a door near the stage labeled “staff only” with a rather sturdy looking man dressed in a fine suit. Tonight her dress was gold and held up by a “criss-cross” over the shoulders. It was slightly revealing, yet tasteful. The look on her face when her eyes met James’s was one that was difficult to read. It looked pleasant enough, but there was also something quite deadpan about it was well. That friendly fire within her eyes still remained, however, and that alone was enough to thrill him once again. “Butterfly, dear,” she said almost motherly, “Have you been waiting on Mr. March all night?”  
“I told him you might be a while,” Butterfly replied.  
“Butch,” Fish said addressing the brutish looking man standing near her, “Please escort Butterfly to her car. I’d hate for her to run into trouble.”  
“You got it, boss,” he said. He too studied him carefully before leaving the premises with Butterfly. Her followers clearly held enough loyalty towards her to be weary of new faces. He quite admired that.

Fish waited until the two of them were gone before stalking towards him. That feeling of danger was within him once again as her gaze remained locked on him. He couldn’t remember a time when a woman was able to awaken such a feeling within him shortly after meeting her. She took a seat near him and gave him that same predatory once over before speaking. “What do I owe the privilege of your company?” she asked, “I imagine you have something important to say if you chose to take precious time away from your business to pay me a visit.”

Many men were bold and others were introverted. James, however, was fearless. He had convinced himself long ago that he deserved the best, so on occasion when he met a quality woman such as Fish, he chose not to beat around the bush.

“I believe you may have already figured out I’m quite taken by you,” he said.  
He was quite pleased to see a hint of a smirk form across her lips. “Well,” she said, “I suspected as much when I received your beautiful gift. I do admit that I find such straightforwardness admirable.”  
She began to tap her long talon nails gently against the counter in a similar fashion as she did at his hotel a few nights prior. “I feel there is a bit more you want to add to that statement,” he said. She smiled as she lifted her chin slightly. “You’re a sharp man,” she said as she stood before approaching him to close the distance between them. She was a petite woman, but the power radiated off of her. Her venomous eyes once again locked with his as she reached up to place her hand on the side of his face. Such a simple touch felt intoxicating all on its own. If he wasn’t careful, she could very well be his undoing, and such a danger was quite arousing. He would not touch her unless invited, however. He may have wanted to drown himself in her in that very moment, but he would not cross any boundaries just yet. “I assume you’ve been around the block long enough to know a woman like me cannot be easily swayed with flattery or diamonds.”  
She spoke in a hushed tone as if they were already lovers. “Then what is it I must do?” he asked. The question came out like a purr. Every moment being around her was like being pulled in by an invisible rope. “Name any want or desire and I will ensure you have it all.”  
“I’m quite capable of getting what I want all on my own,” she said before giving his face a gentle shove to the side as if to say he wasn’t worthy to even look at her. She then moved back to sit on her barstool before continuing. “I don’t want gifts or flattering words,” she said, “If you feel you are worthy, you’re going to need to prove it--impress me.”


End file.
